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I HEARD the trailing garments of the Night
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Sweep through her marble halls!
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I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
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From the celestial walls!
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I felt her presence, by its spell of might,
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Stoop o’er me from above;
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The calm, majestic presence of the Night,
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I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,
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The manifold, soft chimes,
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That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,
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Like some old poet’s rhymes.
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From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
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My spirit drank repose;
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The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,—
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From those deep cisterns flows.
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O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
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What man has borne before!
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Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care,
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And they complain no more.
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Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
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Descend with broad-winged flight,
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The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
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